Page 115 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

David and Tom exchanged fleeting glances, and Rory didn’t think he was the only one holding his breath to see what would happen next.

Clearing his throat, David declared, “Thankfully, I’m a bard from the College of Lore, so I’d like to cast Pass without a Trace on myself and my companion, so that we can sneak into the castle and go find our friends.”

Tom nodded, saying, “They’re obviously in trouble. What else would have caused this alarm? It was probably our rogue. He’s a very cheerful fellow, but his fingers are sticky.”

“Hey!” Edward protested, though he was grinning.

“You’re not there,” Stella reminded him.

“I can feel a disturbance in the Force,” Edward told her.

Stella rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Okay, while the cleric and the bard sneak into the castle, the rest of you have a more immediate problem, as you have guards and kobolds bearing down on you. Oh, is that a troll? I think it is. And our grumpy wizard is up first.”

Max grinned. It was not a nice smile. “I will be scolding him later, but you really should have just let my friend keep that vase…”

By the time they headed to bed, they’d somehow managed not to die despite Edward’s poor impulse control, and they’d even leveled up. Rory was getting better at reading the instructions correctly, but he still checked with Max or one of the others to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

While things hadn’t gone back to normal between Tom and the rest of the group, it had felt like tentative peace. Tom still wasn’t talking to David, but he hadn’t categorically declared he didn’t want to see any of them anymore, which was a distinct improvement. Tom’s life had been turned upside down, and it was unreasonable of them to expect him to get over it immediately. They wanted him to understand and forgive them, but they needed to make space for him to feel what he was feeling—and potentially never forgive them, if he couldn’t get over what they’d hidden.

But he had come to the D&D session, and that gave Rory hope. Surely, if he’d been nothing but angry, he wouldn’t have bothered?

On Saturday morning, Max made Bridget sign the lottery ticket and then stood there awkwardly while she cried all over him once she realized what she’d won. She cried even harder once she realized Max had kept all of her dad’s books.

Rory eventually tugged her away and let her cry over him while Max retreated a safe distance away from all the emotions. He had a little smile on his face, though, and Rory knew he was glad he’d been able to help her out.

After she’d left, Rory asked, “Is her brother going to make trouble?”

Max stared after her. “No doubt, he’d try. But I talked to Rogers this morning, and it’s the weirdest thing. He doesn’t seem to remember anything about a lottery ticket.”

Memory spells, Max had said, were a gray area. Rory leaned over and kissed Max’s cheek. He couldn’t help but feel that it was the least the man deserved after hiring someone who’d tried to kill Max. That seemed like justice to him, even if it was something that Max probably wasn’t supposed to do.

Life, Rory had learned long ago, was complicated. And there were people who tried to make it better, while others tried to make it worse. Rory was always going to be aligned with the former. And he believed in creative solutions.

It was one of the many things he liked about Max. He wanted to keep people safe and happy—in his own grumpy way—and he didn’t seem to be terribly fussed about how he did that.

A ridiculous surge of glee welled up in Rory. He had a mate. They’d bonded, and nothing was ever going to separate them. Rory was going to make absolutely sure of that.

“What are you over there being all gleeful about?” Max asked.

Rory couldn’t help but grin as he was reminded of another benefit of the bond.

“I’m just so glad that you picked me and we’re bonded, and we’re going to be together forever,” Rory told him, unable to keep the happiness out of his voice.

Max smiled. “I’m not sure I can totally wrap my brain around that yet, but it is pretty amazing. I look forward to everything we discover together.”

“Think of how many spells you’ll be able to read!” Rory pointed out.

Max blinked at him, and then he let out a bark of laughter. “True. I always said it would take a hundred lifetimes to get through all the spellbooks.”

And now they could live those lives together.

Rory couldn’t be happier.

The phone rang, and Rory picked it up.

“Read for a Spell, Rory speaking.”

“Hello, Rory. It’s Peter Holcroft. I was wondering if you and Max would be willing to come out to the house. There’s some paperwork relating to Mr. Jones’s estate that the lawyer is insisting must be looked at in person.”